Of Affiliates
by barefootbean
Summary: Rita/Raven; And even though the last expression he saw was a scowl, she could have worn it like a smile.


**[A/N]: **So I feel as though I failed at my first attempt at a Raven/Rita fic... and tried again with this one. I'd really appreciate it if somebody could drop me a PM or review my way letting me know how it reads? These two are surprisingly really hard to write for me, and any praise, advice, or criticism somebody could offer would seriously be fantastic. I'd like to write these two more often (read: all the time), but I'd like to be able to do it right, as in, keeping their characterization straight. So if anybody could set me straight here with some advice and whatnot after reading that would be absolutely wonderful. Thanks. :)

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><p><em><strong>Of Affiliates<strong>_

When Rita arrived in Dahngrest, dirt up to her knees and hair like a haystack that hadn't been brushed in days and days, dark circles under her eyes and not a complaint to be heard even from his safe distance away upon the inn's rooftop, Raven knew_ something_ was off about her. Since when did she limp and not snarl at people she passed?

He passed other guild members chatting in the markets near the inn, and he weaved himself through them with brief apologies and mimbled hellos as they tried weakly to catch his attention. He didn't bother to halt his movements to chat them up like he usually would have in response; he'd been waiting all afternoon for Rita to show as it was, and didn't feel like waiting any longer with her looking the way she was.

By the time he reached her, perched upon a barrel with her legs dangling and head supported with a wobbly elbow, she looked like she was ready to drop dead. He didn't know whether to laugh or bite his tongue as he paused in front of her, tugging on a few strands of hair in greeting; they were stuck together with grime, and he kept quiet as he discreetly pulled a clump out from between his nails and flicked it away. "Yikes... Get in many cat fights on the way here did ya, darlin?"

She didn't even jump from the contact or his heavy accent; simply closed her eyes and half-heartedly kicked out at his shin in retribution. "Nothing that I couldn't handle by myself, Old Man," she murmured.

"Yeah? Well, I'm findin' that just a liiiittle hard to believe, dearest. As in, you're lookin' a little worse for wear than normal." He pushed the few strands away from her face, grimacing at a barely noticeable bruise at the underside of her jaw that revealed itself beneath the grime and dirt. It was obvious evidence to the fact that she no longer had it as easy with her travels as she used to several years ago.

"...Spells not workin' right again?" She grunted and swatted his hand away, and that was all the answer he needed. "Ya know, I'm sure someone would have been willin' ta help ya out–"

"No, they're working just fine. It's just–" With a sigh, she rubbed at her eyes and blinked up at him sedately, expression sober.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Just what?"

"Exhausted. Me. I'm exhausted," she clarified. "Can't cast properly when I'm this tired." He laughed and stretched his arms behind his head.

"Well jeez, I wonder why, darlin'." His voice was dripping in sarcasm. "There are such things as 'inns', ya know," he grinned, and after a second of hesitation, slowly extended out his arm, which she in turn simply stared at. "...Does my lady need an escort?" Rita snorted and immediately slapped it away upon the realization.

"Like hell I do. I'm fine, thanks." Her look was wry, and Raven pointedly directed his gaze downward.

"...That leg of yours hardly can be classified as 'fine'," he said softly.

She looked caught off guard at his observation, and with a grimace, pulled her leg up with a grunt across her opposite knee, examining the wound. He tried not to stare, but the violent scratch marks might as well have been screaming infection. "Huh... I'd forgotten about it..." After a second, she gave him a cold, hard, analyzing _look._ "...You just want an excuse to put me in your debt. Don't you."

It wasn't a question.

"Ah, dearest. _My mission in life~_" He bowed and nimbly dodged another kick aimed at his head.

"You're such a pain," she grimaced, and he could only smile in response.

So maybe she caught on a bit _too_ quickly, though expecting anything less of her would have been foolish. Rita was hardly an idiot. No, _correction_, the girl was anything but. Raven had been around her long enough to pick up on what came first in her world, and he knew self care wasn't one of them.

Okay, so she was still smart when she wanted to be... but just not when it came to _herself_.

"Allow me to rephrase my hospitality then in better terms for your comprehension: you walk to that inn over there, or I," he pointed at himself, "_will_ proceed to carry you there kickin' and screamin' darlin'. Though," he added after a thoughtful moment of silence, "I'd really prefer it if you didn't resist. It'd make things easier for this old man, you know?"

And as a far as threats were concerned, his must have been awfully terrifying. He'd never seen her face turn such a lovely shade of red before. It almost matched her clothes.

"Ex-excuse me?" Oh, _here _came the snarling Rita he knew so well. "D-don't think I won't hesitate to kill you!" She released her injured leg, glowering at him with enough force he didn't dare doubt her words.

But of course. The day she didn't threaten to maim him six ways from Sunday he'd know he was in trouble then.

Raven sighed dramatically and picked at his ear. "Alright, alright, alright... I see how it's gonna be. People can squawk all they like, but... you'll thank me later when nobody finds your corpse in a vendor's stall tomorrow morning." If it was at all possible as he reached his arms down, her face turned even darker.

"And just what the hell is that supposed to—_HEY – get off me!_"

He tried to flip her over his shoulder at first, but she squirmed so much it was hard to maintain a steady grip, and she ended up wrapped around his head like some silly scarf. "Jeez, relax, Rita, I'm just tryin' to be helpfu—OW—oh... my spleen... the agony..." he moaned. Rita tried to kick out at him again, but he shifted his grip further down around her waist to avoid her legs with a grunt.

"_W-w-what the hell are you doing! Stop trying to grope me!_"

"Then stop squirmin' genius!"

For still being such a light weight, she sure kicked harder than he remembered.

"Dammit! Why do you have to be so—so..."

"Chivalric?" She struck him in the back of the head.

"You call this _chivalric?_ This is practically assault!" She'd already stopped twisting, instead gripping fistfuls of his coat between her hands in little bursts of rage, and cautiously (because you always had to be cautious around Rita; he swore she was like a firecracker set to detonate– ), he slowed his pace until he wasn't trying to run from the demon over his shoulder. Some people were staring openly at the young woman with expressions of horror, but others simply dismissed the sight with a nonchalant turn of their head—for which he was grateful.

Another day in the life of Raven the Great, it was. They all knew his motives for being charming better probably than even himself.

He turned his head slightly so she could hear him easier. "If you can walk, why didn't ya just come straight over ta the inn, then? I was waiting for you there like I said I would."

He felt her frame rattle, and he could practically hear the eye roll behind her words. "_Ha!_ As if I could see your scrawny frame all the way over from the entrance!" Raven ignored the scrawny part – because they both knew it was muscle and she was just trying to be a twit – and passed another vendor who went slack jawed at the sight of them.

"Karol can," he grunted.

Rita gave a particularly tenuous yank on his hair. "Yeah, well Karol probably mistakes everything with a bad complexion as you, old man."

He pulled a face and pinched her lightly in the back of the calf in response, and she nearly cracked him in the face with her knee. He tried to ignore the fact after that there was now indeed, soft supple skin several inches from his face. Of course, it'd be the leg _with the stocking and _not_ the tights_ that would have to be _right there._

_Sheesh... Doesn't she own a single pair of pants?_

He averted his gaze and answered himself. "No, because Rita Mordio does what she likes..."

"Hey, Old Man. What are you mumbling about?"

"Mages with bad tempers who kick too hard," he blurted out, then immediately regretted it as she began to shift in his arms again.

"You know, I don't think I hit you hard enough." she said, and without hesitation promptly struck him behind the ear. He considered dropping her, but after a moment when the ringing in his head stopped, decided otherwise.

He didn't dare comment about the fact that her hits were softer than usual.  
>Or the fact that they both knew that she'd already hurt him in other ways before, too.<p>

-o-

Surprisingly, her wounds weren't near as bad as he thought they would be when he brought her back bandages from Fortune's Market vendors outside. He had noticed a few scrapes and bumps and bruises here and there when he had entered the room and she was pulling away her stocking, but nothing that couldn't be fixed with a few gels and an afternoon of sleep, he reasoned.

She'd probably fall asleep within the hour as it was. The dark bags under her eyes seemed to be getting darker—and it contrasted mightily against her pale skin.

It definitely wasn't the loveliest color he had seen on her before.

"Hey, you. Hand me that wrap there."

Silently, he obliged.

Rita took the cloth in both hands after he tossed it to her, and using her teeth, tore it down the middle into thinner strips of fabric. He simply observed quietly from his perch, the plate of food he had brought her untouched in his lap. After a moment, he moved it to the bedside table. Sitting still for so long in her presence was unnerving.

Even when calm, it seemed she still radiated a strength unseen my most women her age. Perhaps it was the attitude, or her diligence and reliability when it came to important issues, but the way she carried herself – confident and sure and wise – certainly affected that image as well, he knew.

Right now, she looked sure. Sure in what she was doing and how to go about it.

_Just like she always does._

Breezes blew through the open window, the sun lighting up particles of dust in the air and bathing the room in a warm glow, and Raven turned his face towards it after a few minutes of steadily watching her work; she was slower in her movements than he remembered, one part sluggish and three parts just plain awkward. "...You know, there is a doctor here, Rita."

She removed her boot and tossed it carelessly onto the nearby bed where he was perched. Eying her shin critically where the wound was worst, she reached for a damp cloth off to the side, not even bothering to glance his way. "That's nice, but I don't really need him. I've dealt with worse before," she dismissed.

"Ah, see... I wasn't suggestin' you see him; just simply thought it might be something you'd want to know about." He was lying, but she didn't need to know that.

"Oh. Well, that's considerate, I guess..." She paused, straightening her leg out along the couch she sat. "...but I've dealt with worse before, so it'd only be a waste of time for him to come now..."

Trying not to stare at the dried gunk surrounding her wound, he ignored the thoughts of what could possibly be worse by her standards. A monster eating her text book?

He crossed his arms across his knees. "You sure? That's pretty grisly lookin' and Estelle's not exactly here to fix ya'll up again."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well are you absolutely positively sure, darlin'? I can get him for you if you want." She grimaced at his statement and ducked her head.

"Take a hint, would you? Having you concerned for me makes me want to jump out that window."

He would have laughed if he didn't think she'd clobber him."Yeah, that's brilliant," he said instead. "You'd _really_ need a doctor then."

Rita's cheeks tinted and she gave a particularly harsher tug on her wrap as she hurriedly tried to tie the ends in a knot; he'd forgotten just how cute she could be when she was flustered. "Well... whatever." She huffed. "It's not like I was _planning_ on getting injured."

He almost laughed aloud this time. "Ha! Now _that's_ original. So what: you expected to make it from Torim Harbor without encounterin' a single thing? C'mon, we both know you're smarter than that!" Rita gritted her teeth and fished for the end of the bandage; the fact that her fingers were shaking didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Would you just shut up? I don't have to put with you like I'm doing, old man." She was still scrabbling for the bandage, and he suddenly didn't find it too cute anymore. Watching her struggle made his gut twist guiltily, but she'd only turn him down if he offered his help, he knew...

The fact didn't change anything.

Raven shook his head, smiling softly. "Nah... but you're humorin' this old man. That's something. And hey—you're also scarin' me. Would you _please_ eat somethin' before you pass out on me? Your shaking's making me nervous over here, darlin'."

"No, because I'm finished here." And with that, she stood sharply.

Raven stared in pleasant surprise from the edge of the bed as she steadily put a solid amount of weight on her leg, not even swaying. So perhaps she was able to walk after all, but... what about the food? The joyous conversations and catching up to do? The roman–

He cleared his throat and mentally slapped himself. "What? So soon? You just got here! And you're still injured!"

Maybe it was the sunlight or the the bruise on her face that made her appear reluctant, but she proved him right when she began fumbling with the collections of various odd and ends upon her cloak, poking at her notebook and examining the sash across her waist. Clearly she was stalling.

"I know, I know," she sighed after a moment of a brief respite, "but I have an important client I've been trying to get into contact with for the last three months. I have to talk to him about something important before I leave again."

Raven froze.

"Um... did you say 'him', darlin?"

"Yeah... What about it?" She made the mistake of glancing up at him, only to witness a look that far surpassed all the smug people on Terca Lumireis combined. Raven could only smile wider as her face paled in response.

"So it _is_ a he~"

Her voice was like acid as she uttered an "_Excuse me?_" and he could have kicked himself as she turned the full power of her wrathful gaze on him then, murder evidently on her mind, hands on her hips. Skipped the surprise and went straight to the reaction. "Just what the hell does that matter to _you anyway?_ You don't even like the guy!" She was clearly trying to divert his attention, he knew.

_Not this time, dearest._

"What?" He smirked. "I can't show some interest in your love life?"

Her cheeks were red again, but this time he couldn't tell if it was from rage or embarrassment as she struggled to form words. "…Don't you dare play innocent with me, old man. You know what I'm talking about," she finally snapped, bending her head and fiddling with the boot on her foot gracelessly. Her ears were slowly turning red as well, and Raven felt some of the hype leave him at her accusation.

"...Play innocent? Me? Nah, I seriously don't know what your talkin' 'bout. Let's be honest with each othe–"

"I _am_ being honest," she interrupted, tossing another frustrated glance his way. "_You're_ just being thick-headed. Again, I should say."

Raven grunted. "Alright, then... To each his own, darlin'..."

Inside though, he was cringing. Either he was dirtier minded than usual, or Rita was seriously suggesting what he thought she was.

It seemed it was unwise of him to assume the role of being clueless, because a corner post suddenly began to smolder vehemently between her fingers where she gripped it for balance. Raven edged away only slightly, mattress springs creaking—more out of a desire to be proven wrong about his thoughts than nerves.

Though, that was something only she could contradict.

"Dammit, why do you have to be so infuriating?" Raven raised his eyebrows, and pasted on an overly flirtatious smile in response.

"Why do _you_ have to keep changing the subject, m' dear? Maybe if ya just answered me, it wouldn't be such a problem for ya."

She growled, tugging the last of her boot on and standing up to her full height: a terrifying five feet and three inches. "Actually, it would be, because this client's identity is kept confidential."

Raven instantly made a face at the new information. "Um, what?"

"My client. His identity is confidential. Don't you know what that term means?" Sighing, Rita swerved from the post and turned and face planted in the middle of the mattress, causing springs to creak from the harsh movement as she shifted her legs. He thought he heard mumbling, but it was hard to tell when she was talking to a quilt.

"Um, what was that darlin'? I can't hear you."

"–E's uh ight. Fom apius. Ate em."

"Rita, I still can't here you." She didn't reply, and the thought occurred to him then that she may be deliberately trying to ignore him.

...After dropping a bomb _like that? About some 'guy'? _Likel he was allowing her to sleep _now_.

Raven pulled a face, and figuring if he had survived this long he was safe, stretched out his arm and promptly pinched her in the side. She shot up immediately with a gasp and swung blindly in his general direction with a fist. "_What the hell was that, old man!_"

He rolled off the bed and onto his feet in one swift movement. "Woah! Down girl! Ya don't need to be doin' anythin' that harsh–"

"Actually, I do! Because you're being a god damned idiot!"

And since he _was_ an idiot and mistook feet for yards in the space between them, she aggresively reached out and snagged him by the front of his shirt with her spindly fingers, pulling his face down to eye level. He couldn't have been more uncomfortable when he realized just exactly _how_ close their faces were. He was pretty sure he knew what it was like to feel hysteric in that given moment, because her bright blue eyes were shocking and his sense of happy-go-luckiness evaporated right then and there.

He suddenly had a feeling he knew exactly who this client was.

Straightening slightly didn't help loosen her grip either, and he almost considered her earlier mentioning of leaping out the window as her knees bumped into his from another step and he felt the familiar desire to turn tail and bolt. Did she not see how uncomfortable she was making him?

He squirmed slightly as she took another step. "Um-uhaha Ritaa? Ah, whatta ya think yer doin'?"

"Clearing up a few things," she murmured, and promptly proceeded to stretch her face up to his.

He was only stunned for a second before he gaped against the warm curve of her mouth, soft and terrifyingly gentle on his, and had to fight the urge to let his hands drop around her waist. He finally managed to pull his head back as her other arm slipped forward to join the first, though, and he gasped. Her fingers might as well have been on fire, because he felt as though she were burning holes right through his jacket. "You-you just–"

Her face was an incredible shade of red now, ears flushed all the way up to the tip, and it was ironic, because he was only just realizing she'd had that expression on her face the whole time since they'd been talking.

She hadn't been kidding about that thick-headed part.

"Revealed my stupid 'confidential' client and kissed you? Yeah, I did. Now shut up, _Schwann_."

"B-but you don't like me! A-a-and I'm old!"

She scoffed at his pathetic excuse and rolled her eyes again before pulling him back down, all soft skin and warm breath and for once impossibly seemingly _his_. "...Yeah," she murmured, "And I'm _young_. Go figure."

And even though the last expression he saw was a scowl, she could have worn it like a smile.


End file.
